


Seventy-Five Degrees

by Airplanes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Choose Your Own Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Humor, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-13 14:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9127570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airplanes/pseuds/Airplanes
Summary: Being an Avenger was hard enough. Finding out that you were being controlled the whole time by your Hydra-obsessed father made things all the more harder.Throw in a romance, some action, and a little bit of /action/, and you might as well be a main character or something.





	1. Tony, It's Cold Outside.

In the Stark Tower, the temperature was always, always, set for 71 degrees Fahrenheit.

Granted, each room had its own thermostat to suit everyone's personal temperature needs, but any time anyone wished to use any of the common areas (kitchen, living room, one of the communal bathrooms, etc.), they had to be subjected to the freezing, arctic temperatures that Stark loved so much. Once, when Anthony had been questioned on the subject, he simply shrugged and said that it was, "The most comfortable," for him. Then of course he smirked and asked, "What? Does it make you uncomfortable?" With that grating, smooth voice of his. He was a charmer, that son of a bitch.

Captain America himself, Steven Grant Rogers had teased about it. "Can't handle a little chill in the air?"

"No," Came the reply, "That's not it. You wouldn't understand, anyway - you spent 67 years in the ice, I figure you're immune to the cold, anyway."

James Buchanan let out a chuckle behind his mug of coffee, to which Steven gave him a little glare. "What? She's not wrong."

"Well, Tony, it is a little arctic in here." Natalia Romanovna - Natasha, she preferred - entered the conversation, suited up for the mission she, you, and Steven were ready to embark on. "Seriously, it's almost December. People like to walk into a little warmth." She pulled on her other leather glove and gladly accepted the cup handed to her.

"It is warm." Stark leaned against the granite counter top as he sipped his beverage. It wasn't coffee, that much was obvious. "According to a study done by the West Midlands Public Health Observatory, the ideal-"

"Feel my hand, Stark." When the frosty touch reached his skin, he flinched. "It's freezing in here. I'm anemic. Have some mercy." Your lips met your mug eagerly as Natalia handed you your cup. Not coffee, tea. 

"Fine. FRIDAY?" Vision and Wanda entered the room together, chatting animatedly about something or the other quietly.

"Yes, Boss?" The accented voice met your ears pleasantly. 

"Can you change the central temperature to 73 degrees Fahrenheit?" 

"Done." There was an odd, high metallic tone as the temperature was cranked up. You gave Tony a look.

"What? I did what you asked." James let out another chuckle, this time louder and you noted the serene look Steven had on his face. Hearing James laugh, or seeing him smile was uncommon, and he often only laughed at seemingly odd things.

"Wow, a whole two degrees!" You looked up at the ceiling, smiling sardonically. "Boy oh boy, it's gonna feel like I'm vacationing in the Bahamas here pretty soon. Thanks, Stark."

"Well what do you suggest I change it to?" You thought for a moment.

"Eighty three, at least." Steven choked on his coffee behind you and Anthony just blinked at you. "What? It's not unreasonable!" 

"Sorry, sweetheart, I'm not interested in being locked in a sauna all day with a bunch of sweaty guys and irritable girls." You rolled your eyes.

"Fine. How about we compromise?" You took a seat on a stool and leaned your head on your hands. "Seventy five?"

"If I do, you have to actually show up to the next party." Bruce entered the common area with you guys and spared a wave to you and a soft look to Natalia. You groaned. 

"When is it?" You asked.

"Next month. The thirteenth." He smiled.

"Fine, you have a deal." You reached your hand forward and he grasped it firmly as you shook it.

"FRIDAY? You got that?" You let out a short sigh, standing and walking to the couch where the two super-soldiers sat quietly. Well, James was sitting. Steven was leaning against the arm of the chair, much to your dismay. You hated when people did that.

Catching your disparaging look, Steven stood up straight and smiled sheepishly, to which James raised a brow. You sat yourself next to the Winter Soldier, and Steven sat next to you. 

"So, Steven," You started. He cringed at his full name, "Care to debrief me one more time?"

"Abandoned outpost, we have eyes that spotted some suspicious activity recently." He pulled out a holo from... somewhere, and flicked the screen forward. You looked at the projection carefully, whilst James peered over your shoulder, curious.

"How recently?" Your eyes followed the two figures that hopped out of a cargo truck and rounded it, pulling something from the back and dragging it towards the decrepit building.

"The past six weeks. The place has been dry for a decade. From what we know, it used to be an intelligence center for some corporation linked to weapons manufacturing."

"For?" Steven handed you a manila envelope and you pulled the contents from the inside. Your eyes skimmed the page, "I see... aren't these guys, "Molotov Inc.", linked to Hydra?" He nodded and James leaned back against the sofa, probably not wishing to hear any more. Your head ached a little, and you took another sip of your tea.

"Possibly." He sighed and crossed his arms.

"Then why aren't we bringing the full team? We need to shut them down." You tucked the files back in the envelope and handed it to Steven. You looked at the words on the side of the truck, but couldn't make out the name. It looked like a foreign language.

"Possibly, meaning we don't know. This is just a quick scope of the situation, not active combat." He raised his hands defensively, "I know how you feel about stealth, but it's just part of the job."

"Fine, fine. Okay. Even though we all know I'm more useful on the front lines, you guys can keep forcing me into backup duty. That's cool." You shrugged passive-aggressively. Steven sighed heavily (which was something he did often when interacting with you) and had the decency to look repentant. It almost made you feel bad. Almost. 

That man could pull off a puppy face when need be.

"It's for the best. We can't have a repeat of-"

"I know, Rogers. No need to beat me over the head with it. You could beat me with something else, though, if you want to."

The sigh he heaved after that was laudable. No matter how many cheesy dirty jokes you made, he always managed to look flustered after each and every one.

"Thank you, for the offer, but I think its about time we get going. Natasha?" The redheaded soldier uncrossed her long legs from the sofa in front of you, parting from her not-so-secret lover, Bruce.

"You know, you should stop asking for debriefs right before the mission." She commented. "Or start listening when we tell you the first time."

"I don't know, this way I kind of have to go along with it. It works for all of us if I can't second guess myself." You stood, stretching in your one-piece, and started to follow the others. Before you left the room, Bruce and James made sure to shout a "Be safe" your way.

On your way to the quinjet, Steven realized he forgot something (his shield, Jesus), and darted off to get it. Natalia made for her room to quickly grab something of her own, and you wandered back to the sitting room that was now deserted, save for James. You sat across from him, awkwardly.

Something about James had always bothered you. It was the way he could, at times, seem so innocent and pure, before changing rapidly and randomly into someone tortured and insecure. How he could feel so unworthy and poisonous, but the others around him could see him so priceless. Namely, Steven. He was a conundrum. Trapped in his own mind.

While you had been deep in thought, James had been shifting anxiously in his seat. 

"Something to get off your chest, James Buchanan?" You smirked as his head whipped up to look at you. "Don't worry, I feel the same way. Maybe after the mission you can come to my room and-"

"No, it's not that - not that I wouldn't - I just-" He closed his eyes and raised his metal hand, "Let me start over. I wanted to ask a favor, and you can't tell Steve."

"Anything for you, darling."

"If the place your looking for is really linked to Hydra, then I need you to look for anything they have on me - no, on any winter soldier. Can you do that for me please?" His brows were drawn together in worry.

"Of course. Besides, I owe you one anyway. You saved my life and all..."

"Not really - I mean, sure, but it was no trouble. You don't owe me anything." There it was. That sad, hopeless look. He sobered up after a pause. "It would mean a lot to me."

"James, are you okay?" You didn't suppose he would open up to you anyway, but it was worth a shot. "You know we're all here for you now, right? You ever want to talk or just... hang out, Steven's here and I'm here - you might want to try talking to Bruce, too, actually, I'm sure he'd know what it's like..." You trailed off.

"Know what its like having murdered countless innocents with his own hands? What its like remembering it all with perfect clarity, every detail, name, face?" He met your eyes, looking a bit like a caged, cornered animal. "I hope not."

"If he doesn't - which I'm sure he does - then you know damn sure that I do." You went quiet as he stared down at his left arm, the metal catching the light. It felt warmer in the room than usual and you smiled softly. "We're all monsters here, Bucky. You're not alone."

"How do you deal with it? How could you?" He let out a humorless laugh as his thick, long hair covered his face. "Just... continuing? Knowing that, if the wrong person knows the right words, it could all be over in an instant? Everything you've worked to restore, everything you've bled over, cried over?"

"I just do. Bruce told me I should meditate, or take up some recreational activity. I smoked a lot of pot for a while after... that day. Now I drink. You can't quite do either, can you?" You thought for a moment. "Maybe yoga would help? Or taking up art. I could help you with either, Steven could help with the latter."

"Recreation?" James looked like he was considering it.

"[Last], Mr. Rogers is requesting your presence at the docking bay." FRIDAY's voice interjected.

"That's my cue." You stood, grunting. "Maybe we can talk more when I come back. Hopefully I'll have some info for you, yes?"

"Be safe out there. I mean it. If they're with Hydra..." He looked unsettled, "Keep an eye on each other."

"You know I have eyes on everything, James Buchanan." A wry grin twisted your features. "Everything."

You made your way to the quinjet leisurely, in no particular hurry as you dwelled on your little exchange with James. He was such a curious, interesting man. 

"Take your sweet time, did you?" Natalia asked upon your arrival.

"Is there a time limit that I'm unaware of?" You raised a brow and headed over to the weapons rack, only equipping yourself with a small knife and a handgun. You strapped both into your thigh holster, cracking your knuckles.

"No, but I know I'd really like to get going." Steven - sorry, he was 'Captain America' right now - said. You slipped your flask out of your vest and took a sip. "Really? Right before a mission?"

"Yep. I'd offer you some, if I figured it'd loosen you up any." You had actually been cutting back on the drinking. Today, it was mostly soda. 

"How you manage to shoot straight is a mystery." Natalia muttered as the three of you entered the quinjet. 

"Hopefully, it won't come to that today." Steven took to the pilot's seat. "Remember, guys. Reconnaissance. Try not to engage anyone."

"No promises, Captain America." You checked the chamber of your pistol, counting the bullets habitually. "I'll try, though." You grinned.

And with that, you three were off.


	2. Screw You, Rogers.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minor Civil War spoilers, if you haven't seen it.

You arrived at the base in about half an hour. Impressive, considering the almost 600 mile distance. 

All chit-chat between you had stopped right before landing, in case the base had any radio detectors. You had landed about half a mile from your destination, in the heavily wooded area surrounding the building.

After the short trek, you stopped at the edge of the clearing, nodding at Captain America before you and Natalia departed. He was backup, considering how conspicuous and recognizable he was. Natalia was supposed to enter the building from the west, and you from the east, so you rounded the clearing and sat, waiting until sunset. 

In the meantime, you surveyed your surroundings. The clearing was maybe half a mile long, with the building taking up most of it. There were around fifteen meters of give on either side, just enough passage for a vehicle or two to go around it. One road going in or coming out. Forest for miles. There were cameras all along the exterior.

Right above the window you were supposed to enter, there was an overhand made out of concrete, from which hung a "14 1/2 ft. clearance" sign. The building itself was three stories - plenty of room for any nefarious business - that would be a chore to search. You checked your wristpiece for the time. 4:46. 

"Ready?" The feminine voice crackled in your ear as soon as the sun disappeared over the horizon, and you nodded. You ran a quick, low-frequency diagnostics on your hacker, and the results came back clear.

"Sure." And with that, you took a running start to the building when you noticed the camera turn away from your destination.

You jumped, fingers catching the very slim window ledge, and hastily pushed it open. Unlocked, as you suspected. You scrambled into the dark room, closing the window behind you and crouching close to the floor. In this particular room, there were no gadgets that you could see - and with a quick scan using your wristpiece, there was no power in this room at all, actually. 

You crossed the room and locked the door, before bringing up a flashlight and starting at the far corner. Now that you could actually see, there were several desks and filing cabinets all over, papers organized in alphabetical order, nameplates, sticky notes - it looked like a standard office. 

"I've got some guys headed towards you, Scorpio." Natalia's soft voice warned you. 

"There's a fuckin' office over here. There have to be thousands of files just in this one room. How close are they?" A masculine sigh could be heard as you pulled your contacts out of your pocket and wondered briefly if you should try to wash your hands. You popped one in.

"ETA ten minutes." You cracked your knuckles and popped in the other, before setting a timer for nine minutes.

"How many?" You opened the first drawer and pulled out a thick file, labeled "Shipments".

"Three." A groan slipped past your lips when you spotted the size of all of the files.

"Thanks for the head's up." You opened the file and skimmed the page, just taking pictures and not bothering to absorb the info. After that file, you moved on to the next, and the next. 

You steadily made your way across the room, being selective in which files you chose to record - "account transfers", "lay offs", "breach of contract", "suspicious activity" - and so on. Eventually, when you were about halfway across the room, your timer went off. You listened for footsteps and heard none, but still unlocked the door and put everything back in place.

When putting away one file, though, you came across something that piqued your interest. "James Barnes." Just as you spotted it, footsteps approached the door, along with oddly jovial voices. You tucked the file in your vest and looked for a place to hide.

As the door opened, you were about fifteen feet in the air, balanced on your hands on a precariously brittle beam, and you prayed that they weren't here to do actual work. One of the men, a brunette, sat on someone's desk and started to chat. When you saw the other two start to settle in, you figured that they planned on being there for a while. Your hands were starting to sweat.

You reached one of your hands - very carefully - across yourself and into your belt, pulling out a gas grenade and a face mask.

"I'm compromised." You muttered. Your earpiece cackled to life.

"Can you handle it without engaging?" Captain America asked. "Or, at least without using your powers?"

"I'm doing a handstand on top of a rusty beam while these three drunk fucks complain about their wives not deepthroating them right, Captain, I'm past the point of being incapable of engaging."

"Language!" He sounded appalled.

"I can probably get past without my powers, though."

"Can you just slip out of there?" Natalia asked. You considered it, but quickly shook your head.

"I need the rest of those files. It's practically a gold mine down there." You dropped the grenade right on the brunettes lap and detonated it before the sentence left your lips. The gas slipped out of the metallic container, and before any of them could shout they were out cold. You put on your mask before you jumped out of hiding, landing gracefully on one of their bodies. "Handled it." You informed your partners. You went right back where you discovered James' file, looking through and shoving a few more into your vest. You didn't read them, out of a respect for his privacy. 

You finished surveying that room and moved onto the next, coming across nothing interesting, and then a few more. Finally, after about six duds, you moved to the next floor. 

You quickly ran into a problem. There were people everywhere. 

Interestingly enough, while the first floor had been deprived of both electricity and life, this floor was the exact opposite - cameras and guards everywhere, lights blindingly bright and leaving no corner dark, people bustling about everywhere - it was vaguely alarming. 

"Are you seeing this, Scorpio?" Natalia asked, sounding frustrated. 

"Yeah. Should we keep going?" You breathed, sticking close the the only safe corner you had found. 

"What?" Captain America spoke up, "What's wrong?"

"There are people everywhere. Guards, cameras, everything." Natalia answered. 

"I can handle the cameras, no problem." You sent out a wave and had the cameras loop the past five minutes of footage. Only as long as you had been sitting there, observing. Nothing interesting had happened, "We could get a uniform."

"And be without any sort of defense?" Natalia asked. She knew how much you disliked stealth as is.

"Maybe you should just turn back. We have more than enough information to plan our next move-" Just as he said that, someone rounded the corner where you were hiding. You stood there for only a moment before you landed a punch to the person's throat. Quickly, as they doubled over, you slammed their head against your knee hard enough to knock them unconscious, before you dragged them further into your corner.

"I have a uniform already." You slipped the pants over yours and the shirt and jacket on top of yours. "Widow?"

"Me too." She sounded a little winded. 

"Fine. You guys be careful, okay? Keep me posted."

"Will do." Natalia answered. 

You slipped from around the corner, keeping your head low as you passed people. Only about three minutes had passed before a high-pitched alarm could be heard, deafening to your ears.

"Shit, I think they're onto us." You cursed lightly, "I'm picking up at least thirty heat signatures headed my way."

"Get out of there, Scorpio. It's not worth it." 

"They're surrounding me." You smirked, "No coming out of this one clean, Captain."

"I'm headed your way." Nat said.

"So am I." Captain America said, a slight edge to his voice. You looked down at your nametag, laughing to yourself at how you could have missed the tracker on it. They must've discovered the unconscious lady and figured out they had an intruder. 

Quickly, you undressed and tossed the clothes out of the nearest window, back in your combat attire. The first person spotted you and shouted to the group of people behind him, which left that side of the narrow hallway crowded. You turned to the other side and saw pretty much the same thing. 

"It's advisable that neither of you come near me, honestly." You pulled off your gloves and stuck them in your back pocket, feeling the familiar tug in your gut that had you giggling. "I won't kill them, but things could get a little messy." You planted your feet firmly on the ground, and it felt like time slowed a little. 

"You know using your powers now after such a long time could be-"

"Who says I haven't been using my powers?" In fact, you think time actually did slow a little. You furrowed your brow as the people ran towards you almost as if they were in water. "What the hell?" You whispered. The more you thought about it, the slower they all seemed to be moving.

"What? What happened?" Captain America seemed unusually anxious.

"Is time going slower for you guys, or am I drunker than I thought?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Scorpio?" Nat asked, incredulous. She sounded slightly more winded.

"I'm not using my powers, I swear, but everyone has - just look!" You synced your contacts up to your wristpiece and streamed it to the others. You pointedly whirled around at normal speed, watching in awe as the thirty or so people ran at you at a snail's pace.

"Whatever the hell it is, you need to get out of there. Fast." Captain America said, "We don't know if it's friendly." You sighed and took the opportunity to hop out of the window, landing on the overhang and jumping to the ground, before taking off in the direction of the quinjet.

 

Of course, Natalia arrived before you, and Steven was fuming when you finally showed up, nursing your half-empty flask. He didn't say much until the last five minutes of the ride, just brooding.

"What the hell was that stunt back there, [Last]?" He paced back and fourth as Natalia piloted the quinjet. You rolled your eyes when his back turned to you. 

"What? I didn't do anything."

"Only because God knows what stopped them from attacking you. Who knows what could've happened had you actually gotten a chance to-"

"I'm not some vicious murderer, _Rogers_ , it's not like I was planning on killing them the first chance I got!" You sneered at him, standing from your sitting position a chair. He stopped pacing, giving you an incredulous look.

"You could've fooled me, what with all your complaining all the time about not being on the front lines!"

"What, because I actually want to be useful?! Sorry for wanting to contribute to the Avengers I'm supposed to be a part of every once in a while-!"

"Don't use the Avengers as an excuse to wreak havoc all around you, [Last]. I'm not buying it anymore. We don't fight when we don't _need_ to." The jet landed and you scoffed as he prepared to leave.

"When are we ever _needed_ to sit around and play nice, Rogers? The only time people call on us, the only time we're called on ourselves is if there's danger that needs to be eliminated - anything else is out of our expertise. You, of all people, should know that much!" He turned to you and barked out a laugh as he kept walking. You gave chase as he walked through the building. "Don't you walk away from me!"

"I'm not going to sit here and entertain your insane inclination that the Avengers are used to kill people!" He entered the elevator and you were right next to him, not even bothering to take off any of your equipment. "Just face it, darling, you ain't right in the head!" His voice was acerbic as he crossed his arms and stared down at you.

"Really, Rogers?!" The elevator opened to the common area, and seven heads - Clint, James, Anthony, Bruce, Wanda, Vision and Thor - turned to face you, alarmed. "Maybe you'd be able to understand if your head wasn't shoved so far up your goddamn ass - maybe then you'd know how hard it is to be someone who isn't fucking perfect!" You went to leave but his hand on your shoulder whirled you around to face him.

"It's not abut being perfect, it's about being held accountable for your actions. Maybe you'd understand if you weren't a goddamn sociopath and knew what the hell remorse was!" 

"Are you really saying this to me, Rogers?" Nat exited the elevator right behind you two. "Do you really think I don't feel remorse for what I've done?" Your voice was a low hiss as the others just looked on, surprised. You don't think they've ever seen you this angry. 

"It sure as shit doesn't seem like it." You stepped closer to him, staring him straight down. You were almost nose-to nose. "You don't kill as many people as you've killed and still manage to ask to do it again if you feel even the tiniest bit of guilt."

"So locking me up is your answer, Rogers?" Your voice was shrill and you didn't back down. "Weren't you the one that got upset over Tony doing the same damn thing to Wanda after Nigeria?"

"This is not the same thing! She made a mistake! You lost control!"

"Oh, so when your best friend Bucky _fucking_ Barnes loses control and murders Tony's parents, you'll shatter the Avengers for him, but because I let one thing slip I'm a fucking sociopathic murderer?!" 

"Don't you bring him into your _shit_. I didn't think you were fit to be an avenger in the first place." You slapped him across the face as hard as you could, and his face turned to the side a fraction. He let out a humorless laugh and ran his tongue across his teeth. "You've killed 74 people this year. I'm not going to be responsible for any more." The air thickened considerably.

"You're about to be the 75th if you don't lose that haughty fucking smile, Rogers." You could feel the power seeping from your fingers and a lightbulb behind you shattered.

"I'd like to see you try it, princess-"

"Okay, okay, I think that's enough you guys." Tony chimed in, standing from his spot on the sofa. You kept your eyes on Steven, trying to calm yourself down. You forced yourself to breathe as the lights flickered.

"I remember every last one of them, Steve." You started, voice low. "I went to every last one of their funerals, I spoke to every last mother, father, sister, brother, wife, husband, and child. I've dealt with seventy four separate beratings, and beatings," You closed your eyes as you thought of every face. "I know every last name, face, and story like my own, Steve." You opened your eyes again, eyes wet with tears you refused to shed. "I know that nothing I could ever do can bring those people back. But I wanted to at least try to do as much good as possible, to maybe restore some sort of balance to the world in the only way I know how." 

Steven's face softened considerably, and he looked like he wanted to apologize. Before he could, though, you raised a hand to stop him.

"If you want me to go, I'll go. I can be gone by the end of the week and you'll never have to see me again. But-" You turned to Stark and Barnes, apology written all over your face. "I'm sorry, you two. I was out of line. Wanda, you too."

"Wait, I-" Steven started, "I didn't mean-"

"You meant it. And that's okay." You pulled off your vest and tossed it to James, who caught it with an oddly repentant look on his face. He glared at Rogers behind you. "I'm going for a run before I start to pack."

Before anyone else could say anything, you departed.

"Well..." Thor began, "I suppose there will be a debrief when she returns?"

Steve ran a hand through his hair roughly, heaving an especially laborious sigh. "Yeah. I think I'm gonna go... shower." He had showered twice already today, once when he woke and once after he had hit the gym, but he figured he needed time to think. Vision and Wanda left shortly after he did.

"And I'm gonna go to the gym. Spot me, Bruce?" Natasha asked. Honestly, she wanted to explain the day to him. Bruce nodded, setting his book down after he marked his page. Thor turned to Tony, raising a brow.

"Right, we should get on that." Tony sighed as Thor stood and they went off somewhere, leaving Bucky and Clint. There was a long pause.

"So," Clint, being ever the observant archer, "What's with the jacket?" 

Bucky jumped, unsure as to whether he should reveal himself. "Oh? Just uh... I-"

"C'mon, Buck. You can tell ol' Clint."

"It's... something I asked her to look for. Can you keep it a secret from Steve?"

"Sure thing." He leaned forward, curiosity evident. "What's the big secret?"

"I don't know yet." Bucky felt around the jacket, quickly finding the zippered pocket. Inside, there were several files. "James Barnes", "Winter Soldier" And something he vaguely recognized in Russian to read, "Test Subject".

"What do you need these for?" Clint asked, voice hushed. He could understand his curiosity, but not his end goal.

"I just... dreamt something the other day, you know? I wanted to see if it was a memory or a nightmare." Bucky opened the file and skimmed the page quickly, "It's personal. I don't want Steve to worry about it."

"I see. You can trust me, so long as you aren't gonna do anything stupid." Clint leaned back in his seat, curiosity sated for now.

"I won't." He sighed, "I won't." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, Steve. That was rude.


	3. Doll

Your run lasted roughly around an hour, and you figured that was enough time for them to finish talking about what they would do with you. You were recognized a few times on your run, like you always were, as the local murderer. It was... harder to keep a straight face this time around. 

When you arrived back home, you showered, packed a few things, and returned to the 75-degree common area. The debriefing room seemed thick with tension once you entered, the full oval table awfully quiet. You sat closest to the exit, as you always had.

The meeting started as normal, but instead of Steven taking the lead, Natalia did the honors. "We arrived at 3:48 pm, and made our way to the building. As planned, we waited until sunset, which was..." She checked something on the holo in front of her, "4:47 pm. I entered through the west wing, [First] entered the east. I didn't find too much, mostly some shipping records and empty beer cans. I did manage to snag some equipment. You?"

"A bunch of files." You messed with your wristpiece and uploaded them to Natalia's laptop, "I didn't have time to read any of them, but I did take a ton of pictures. Thanks for these, by the way, Dr. Banner." You pointed to your eyes and he shrugged. As humble as can be.

"Ah, so they work?" Anthony inquired, "Great, they cost me a small fortune." He smiled, though.

"Anyway, from the bit I did absorb, I think its safe to say that they're working with Hydra." Your head started to ache, "They're only manufacturing parts, though, not finished products. I think there's another place about fifty miles north of here that's manufacturing other components. It'd be advisable to hit there, see what more info you guys can gather, and maybe work on piecing together whatever it is they're making. They used some sort of code, so I couldn't quite figure out what their end game was." You crossed your arms. "Anything to do with Hydra, though, is bad news. Your head started to ache a bit and you sighed.

"They'll be expecting us, though, won't they?" Clint asked, "From what I could gather, you all ran into some trouble."

"Ah, the enemies of my brethren have been slain, hopefully?" Thor questioned. You pinched the bridge of your nose, but smiled. He meant well, at least.

"No, unfortunately. The first floor was deserted, but when we reached the second, we found a buttload of cameras and guards all over the place. We snagged a couple uniforms but I guess I didn't knock the girl out cold enough, she must've woken up and the tracking device on her nametag sent thirty of them straight for me." You said.

"Me and Rogers were on our way when she said she noticed something a little weird about them." Natalia projected something onto the table, and you could hear your voice mingling with Steven's.

"-Just look!" You were thrown back to where you were before, the people running towards you in slow motion. Seeing everyone see from your perspective made you feel oddly shy. You blinked a lot more often than you realized.

"Whatever the hell it is, you need to get out of there. Fast." Captain America said, "We don't know if it's friendly." You had looked around a few more times, sighing, before jumping out of the window, letting out a curse as you rolled into a standing position on the overhang, and jumping off of that. The projection cut off.

"Those were definitely worth the small fortune." Anthony said in the silence that followed. 

"What the hell was that?" Clint looked alarmed. "Was it some sort of gas?"

"Nope. I didn't have my mask on and it didn't affect me. Plus, what sort of gas does that?"

"It could've been a neurological suppressor that targeted the cerebellum?" Bruce started, arms crossed, "Then again - can you pull that up again?" Natalia did as he asked, and he watched them closely, "No. They probably all would've fallen. Something is doing that to them - but who?" All eyes darted to one person in particular.

"Don't look at me. That's not in my skill set." You raised your hands defensively.

"But it could be." Anthony said, "With your powers, there's no real way to know for sure what you can do. Besides, who else could it be? I didn't see any other heat signatures."

"I know when I'm doing something, and trust me - that was not me." You insisted, "That was foreign."

"Then that brings on a whole new set of problems," Wanda sighed. Vision nodded in agreement.

"Who was it?" You inquired. A shiver ran down your spine, largely because you had a slight idea of who - what - it could be.

"Any thoughts?" Natalia looked around the table. "None?"

"It's been a long day. We should pack it up and talk again tomorrow afternoon." Anthony said, yawning into his fist. "Anything else anyone wants to say?" 

It was almost comical, how everyone looked to the uncharacteristically silent Steven Rogers.

"Ah..." He seemed a tad like a deer in headlights. "Yes. I'm... sorry, for what happened when we got back from the mission, [First], I didn't mean a bunch of the things I said, I was just..." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he met your eyes from way across the table. "I had had a lot of pent-up frustration and I took it all out on you. It isn't fair how I've been keeping you benched this year, and I think it's about time I stop letting past mistakes determine your future." He gave you that puppy-dog look you had mentioned before. 

"Do you think I'm fit to be an Avenger?" The question seemed to catch him off guard, and the others looked from him to you and back to him as if watching a ping pong game.

"...Huh?"

"Do you... believe... that I'm fit to be an Avenger, Steven?" You repeated the question, watching him closely.

"Without a doubt." He said, still a touch confused. "Absolutely. You are a valued member of the team, [First], and I-" He cleared his throat, looking away, "we - need you here."

"So you're not kicking me off the team?" 

"As if he has the jurisdiction." Clint crossed his arms, scoffing. He offered you a smile that you gladly returned.

"I thought you all hated me." You said, honestly. "I figured it was just a matter of time before I pissed one of you off - I've had an apartment down in Brooklyn for the past two years just in case-" This was a massive weight off your shoulders.

"What? Hated you?" James looked genuinely startled, "Jeez, doll, you really don't know how to read people, do you?" He was seemingly bemused by how off you were in your judgements. You ran a hand down your face, before you stood, leaning against the cool glass of the table.

"So I'm not getting kicked out of the tower, huh?" You tapped your bluetooth, "Call Jeremiah." As the dial tone sounded, you looked around the table, "Thanks, you guys. I guess I'll see you all tomorrow,"

And then you left the room, heading up to your own. 

 

"So, no, I won't be coming home after all. Sorry about the misunderstanding." You hung up the voicemail just as FRIDAY called your attention.

"Mr. Barton is at your door."

"Let him in." You grabbed a second mug out of your cabinet and poured him some tea, no sugar, just like you always forced him to drink it when you two were together. Clint's footsteps were silent, as always, so you were only mildly surprised to find him already on your couch, a file in hand.

"Hey, [First]."

"Clinton! What's up?" You handed him the mug and he grimaced.

"Why do you insist on calling me that? Anyway, I stopped by for several reasons." He sipped his drink, but quickly spit it back into the cup and fanned his mouth. "What's up with you and all this heat all the time? It's a sauna in here and you're drinking boiling, bitter water."

"Herbal tea doesn't need sugar, Clinton. And it's only 85 degrees - it's nearly wintertime, these windows let in a lot of cold. What brings you to my humble, toasty abode?" You quizzed, sipping your drink.

"This." He handed you the file labeled "James Barnes". You took it, but didn't open it. "He asked me to give it to you, said Steve would get suspicious if he saw him toting a file around." He tried his drink again and frowned.

"What does he want me to do with it?"

"He just told me to give it to you." He shrugged. "I don't know. Ask him yourself when you get a chance." He sighed into the sofa. "Man. I need to get Tony to get me one of these things. What is this?"

"Jasper Morrison, I think." You said. Clint grabbed the remote next to him on the nightstand, and you threw your feet over his lap. He rolled his eyes, but placed a hand on your calf as he surfed through the channels. "What are the other reasons?"

"Huh?"

"The other reasons you came up here. I figured you'd be halfway home by now." You leaned over the arm of the couch to sit your cup down, catching a glimpse of the time as you yawned. 11:32.

"Oh, I'm here for the rest of the month and well... it's movie night back home and I didn't want to watch Disney by myself, that's just kinda sad." He yawned, too, as he settled on a film. Frozen.

"I see," You drawled, waiting on the other reason.

"That and... I wanted to check on you. I know he apologized, but he said some pretty harsh things back there."

"So did I." You looked down at him as he played with your fuzzy socks. It tickled, but bearably. "I'm cool, Clinton, no need to stress." You sighed as his hand massaged your calf a little. "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."

"I know you are. Still, doesn't hurt to vent a little bit. I know it did me a world of good." He referenced a conversation you two had had months ago, when Nathaniel had been born and stress got the best of him. "Just want you to know you have people who care about you, [First]. Nobody here hates you."

"I know that now." You voice got a touch softer as you closed your eyes. "Thank you, Clint." You made an effort to sit up and hugged him briefly as the opening scenes of the movie finished. You put your head on his lap instead, fighting to stay awake.

"Mhm. So, are you not even gonna read the file?" His hands drifted to your hair.

"What? No." His fingers massaged your scalp and your eyes drifted shut of their own volition, but you kept your voice lively. "It's none of my business."

"And you really mean that. Wow. You're not even a little bit curious?" His laugh reverberated through his entire body.

"Of course I'm... curious." You sighed as he hit your sweet spot. "I just don't like to stick my nose where it doesn't belong. I've learned that after a very long career of doing just that, you know?" He hummed his affirmation, "If he says I can look, then I'll look. Until then, it's not my problem."

"I can't believe you." He said, jokingly.

"Did you look through it?"

"Of course I did." You reached forward and grabbed the file, but Clint halted you. "Do you still have those contacts in?" 

"Of course not." You opened the file and skimmed the page, over-eager. It was mostly information you already knew, with a few new tidbits here and- "What the fuck?" You whispered. 

"Told you he was hiding something from you." Clint placed a hand on your shoulder, "I thought that he just had the hots for you."

"He - no, he had to figure that I would read it - or maybe he thought that I already had - or maybe that you would read it and tell me and that's why he didn't give it to me himself - what the fuck?" You said again, re-reading the list again. "Why would Hydra have a hit out on me from 1998?" You questioned, "I didn't even know how to count to five hundred back then - let alone that I had powers." Your head started to pound and you sipped your tea. "Why did they send James after me?"

"I don't know. I think you'll have to ask him yourself."

"The better question, I think, is how I'm still alive. Every other person on this list is crossed out." Your eyes skimmed the lengthy list again, guilt pouring over you as you saw the Starks. "From what he's mentioned, he was very effective when under Hydra's control."

"That's what I was thinking. You can't be an accident." A corner of your lips lifted.

"Actually, I was. But I get your point. I'll go find him in the morning." The iconic Disney song started on the screen before you. "Tonight, though, is movie night." You tucked the papers neatly back into the file, put your head back on his lap, and let his fingers in your hair lull you into a Disney mood. 

Eventually, your eyes became too heavy to hold open, and you fell asleep.

 

When you awoke, it was to Clint's ear-grating snoring. He had fallen asleep leaning on your hip, so his snores vibrated through your whole body. You rolled your eyes heavily, but just sat for a moment before shifting slightly to give him a hint. He let out a short groan.

"Laura, hold on..."

"Guess again, Clinton." You giggled a little, and Clint sat up slowly, rubbing his face.

"Oh. Well. Sorry about that, I drooled on your hip a little bit."

"You also snore a lot, as I've mentioned before." You sat up and stretched, "What's on the agenda today?" you asked. He checked his phone and his face paled visibly. "What's wrong?"

"Uh..." He showed you his screen and you swallowed harshly, "Just fourteen missed calls." He quickly dialed his wife's number, and you muted the television. 

You stood, giving him some privacy as the love of his life shouted into the phone at him.


	4. Domestic, aren't ya?

After a quick shower, you changed your clothes and checked your schedule, cleaning up a bit. It was early enough for breakfast, you figured, since you didn't have to meet with Bruce until nine and the second half of the debrief wasn't until two. 

Clint, ever the domestic since he'd gotten married, had made breakfast for you. "Here you go." He had a small smile to his voice and you supposed the rest of his phone call had gone well. 

"Thanks, Clinton." You poured two cups of coffee, and added copious amounts of cream and sugar to his. You kept yours black.

"I used to do this for Nat all the time, before she got with Banner." He made your plate and you traded it for his coffee.

"I'm sure he's taking good care of her." You sat on the bar stool and started to eat. Clint watched your reaction. "What the hell - Barton, are you a chef or something?" You took another bite to see if your taste buds were fooling you. No, this was delicious. You had never been the biggest fan of breakfast, but this was something you could eat all day.

"Nope. Just a dad." You looked up at him and winked, purely out of habit. He gave you a dry look.

"Sorry, can't help it. You know that's my kink."

"I'm going to cry." He started to wash the pans he used.

"You're not having any?" You inquired.

"I hate breakfast, honestly. Plus, it tastes better if someone else cooks for you." He smiled softly, "I'm more of a coffee-and-bagel guy to begin with."

"Really?" You sipped your coffee, shrugging, "When did you become so domestic?"

"About eight years ago." He answered easily. He put away the dishes he used and you chatted with him animatedly as you finished up.

You both decided to part ways - Clint headed off to find Nat, and you to find Bruce.

You found Dr. Banner in his lab - where he told you he'd be - hunched over something under a stethoscope. Tony wasn't far, across the room and talking to Vision whilst looking at the metal part Nat had scavenged from the warehouse.

"Ah, [First]." Bruce greeted you with a small smile, reaching his hand out for you to shake. You took it gladly. "Nice to see you're in a good mood this morning."

"You too, Banner." You pulled the contacts from your belt, which you always had on you. Always. "Thanks for letting me test these out, they were a big help."

"No problem. I needed someone willing to try them anyway, so," You hummed your understanding. "I appreciate it and I'm glad they were useful."

"Yeah, totally. Though, I could recommend the option to turn off the streaming. After a while it gives you a headache, you know? I also think it could just be them reacting adversely with my powers, but the infrared waves from the heat sensors kind of seem like they could be mimicking the synapses in the brain, which after a while makes them feel heavy, you know what I mean?" He listened to you raptly, nodding along with what you said.

"Sure thing. That was one thing I was worried about, too, sorry for the inconvenience."

"No, no, no problem." You leaned against one of the clear tables, and hopped up when Bruce prompted you to. "Other than that, they were fantastic. That's just an issue with long-term wear. I figure you could also fix that little issue you had with it giving off a faint radiowave by adding an external storage space, so that they don't always project to the quinjet. Maybe that'd be hard to keep track of, though?"

"Not if it was implemented into the earpiece?" Bruce suggested. He turned on a little flashlight and got closer, examining you closely. "Focus on my finger." You did as instructed, the bright light blinding you and making your pupils contract. "Maybe a chip inserted under the skin..." He turned off the light and you blinked a few times, "But that's a little permanent."

"I'm game, if you want to try it." You offered. Bruce looked at you for a moment, thinking, before looking away. And then he looked back at you.

"Really?" He smiled, abashedly. "I mean, it'd be a few days before I could even show you what it would look like, and then there's the placement and how often you would have to update it, scarring, aches - I couldn't ask you to-"

"You aren't. I'm volunteering." You leaned your head back as he approached with some eye drops, holding your eyes open as he put them in. "I'd be honored, Dr. Banner." You smiled slightly.

"Ass kisser!" Tony shouted across the lab and you laughed.

"Alright. I'll have a new prototype in a week." He pulled out a needle and prepped your arm for it, "We'll see how it goes from there."

You let out a little yelp when the needle pierced your skin - you had been afraid of them since you were a child - and Bruce frowned like he always did when you showed any sort of negative emotions. Still, he took your blood like he's done every month for the past year, gave you a band-aid and a lollipop, and sent you on your way.

 

Next on your agenda was to find James. You started at the gym - and lo and behold, that's exactly where he was. That's almost always where he was.

He had a pair of headphones on, so you supposed he couldn't hear your approach - but, to your surprise, he whirled around to face you, startled, before you touched his shoulder. He let out a relieved sigh, pulling his headphones down, and turning on the bench to face you properly. 

He was covered in sweat from head to toe, his dark hair completely soaked so that it stuck to his forehead until he pushed it back, out of his face. He wasn't wearing a shirt, so of course your eyes trailed his torso. Hydra kept him fit, that's for sure - he was all muscle and sinew. You counted, four, six, eight abs, and then your eyes trailed down to that "V" line all the girls died for. He was mostly hairless, from what you could see - which unfortunately, wasn't enough. You imagined briefly what would happen if you asked him to see the rest. Your eyes traveled back up his chest and to his strong arms.

You tilted your head to the side a bit when you heard him clear his throat, but didn't stop your shameless examination. Your eyes wandered the point where his skin and the metal met - it was a much smoother join than you had been expecting, actually. His actual shoulder was missing, so there was just a point where his skin disappeared under the metal.

"Ahem..." He tried again, probably feeling a little awkward. His cheeks were a little pink.

"Sorry, James Buchanan. I see something I like, I tend to look." You sat next to him on the weight bench. "So, I read your file." You started.

"O-oh." He seemed almost anxious. "That's why you found me?" He took a sip from his water bottle almost a little too eagerly. "I wanted to talk to you about it but I wasn't sure how." 

"If it wasn't for Clinton, I never would've opened the damn thing." You admitted, "I don't read personal files. It's a policy of mine."

"Well... it's just... you're intimidating." At that, you let out a genuine laugh. Really. You slapped your knee and everything. This man, who had been through war and survived decades of torture, found you intimidating?

"I don't know if I should be insulted or flattered, James Buchanan." He didn't quite meet your eyes, kind of staring at his metal palm. "You've been in a world war."

"Not - I'm not scared of you or anything, it's just-" His face got a touch redder, "Never mind. The file." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, "I don't want to think of it too much, but I remember the day. January first, 1998. It was a Thursday, I think, the coldest day of that year." His brow furrowed, "I was back in Brooklyn when I got the order. Said I had a hit out on a kid, and I just took it." His little New Yorker accent came back full swing the quieter he spoke. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, "I just changed direction down the street without a second thought."

"What time was it?" Your throat tightened a touch as something, a memory, tugged at the back of your head.

"It was 7:06 when I showed up."

You remembered that day, you knew you did, but couldn't manage to grasp it. You knew something happened that night but couldn't remember what, exactly, it was. "What did you do?" Your head started to pound.

"I wasn't used for stealth, exactly, so I broke down the door and shot the first two people I saw." His eyes opened and he had that sorry look on his face, and the memory came back full force. 

"That was... my mom and the neighbor?" You asked, staring blankly ahead, "But the hit was for me? I don't understand, what stopped you?" You remember now, seeing him walk in with a hat slung low on his face, a jacket pulled up to his nose and a gun in his gloved hands, but not much after the second shot rang out.

"You did. You almost killed me that night." He smiled slightly, apologetic in every sense of the word. "That was the first manifestation of your powers."

You rubbed your temples. "Why are you telling me this?" You whispered, suddenly tired, "Why are you telling me this?"

"I figured you should know, so that we don't have a repeat of what happened with Tony." A lot of things suddenly made sense to you. Why your father had turned into who he was today, why your brother was always so secretive about mom...

"Jesus..." You ran your hands down your face and pushed everything to the back of your mind, "Thank you. Can I hug you?" That was a question you had asked him countless times, and you expected the same nervous "N-no" that you normally received. This time, though, he hesitantly raised his right arm, to which your brows shot up to your hairline. "Seriously?" You asked, giddy. 

Before he could change his mind, you met him with an arm around his back and another around his front, careful to be gentle. It was a pity hug, you knew, but still a novelty moment nonetheless. You sighed, burying your face in his neck and planning on drawing this out as long as he would let you. He was careful to only use his flesh hand, wrapping it gingerly around your waist and placing his head on your shoulder, letting out a sigh.

He smelled like... sweat and pine cones. You don't figure it gets more masculine than that. 

After about four seconds, the gym doors opened and in stepped Natalia, Clinton, and Steven, all of whom did a double take at you and James cuddling on the workout bench.

Clinton looked amused, Natalia just shrugged and muttered something to Clinton who laughed rather abruptly, and Steven looked... bewildered. His jaw dropped and he almost tripped on his way over to the others, who had left him.

When they entered, James tried to pull away from you. "Nuh-uh. You pull away all startled, it'll look like we're hiding something. Plus, you're warm." You snuggled in closer, a devilish grin on your face as you whispered in his ear, "Now that we're on the home plate, Buchanan, maybe we can work on getting a home run?" At that, he pulled away, flustered. 

"I just told you I killed your mother and you ask about - about-" He seemed confused and embarrassed all at once, until something seemed to dawn on him, "Are you just mocking me?"

"Only partly. Every joke has a little truth to it - what's the harm in saying what I'm thinking? If it gets you to blush and stop brooding so much-" You walked your fingers up his chest and he shivered, a somewhat pained look crossing his features, "What's the harm?"

"I'm... me." He let out another sigh, "I'm me." You looked into his steely grey eyes and cracked another smile.

"That's what makes you so hot, darling." You stood, stretching. "You've got that whole pained, sexy, brooding persona about you that makes the ovaries just... explode. I bet you're packing heat down there, aren't you?" You pointed at his crotch and his brows raised, "That would be the death of me. Maybe you could complete your mission then, huh?" You asked rhetorically. As he tried to formulate a response, you winked and exited the room, heading out for a quick run before your meeting in a few hours. 

The information you had just gotten from Bucky helped piece a lot together in your mind. You were young when it had happened but you noticed a sudden shift early in your childhood. You were pulled out of pre-k and home schooled for a year before you had been sent to a boarding school in England that gave you your skills in combat today. It could also explain why your father had sent you after Hydra when you were 15, and had insisted you join the avengers all those years ago.

Your mother had been a bit of a family secret - you hadn't found out exactly what happened to her until just now. You imagined if you told you father (if you ever managed to locate him) that you were living with her murderer, he would order you to kill him.

And honestly? You would have to listen to him. Something about your father was just... compelling. You'd found it impossible to disobey him when you were younger.

He was, after all, where you got your powers from. For the most part.

**Author's Note:**

> So! Who do you want to end up with, in the end? Anyone (Besides Bruce, Wanda, and Vision, I just don't know how to portray those three) is an option.


End file.
